


I am Batman!

by SandraMorningstar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: how Dean got into reading Batman comics, instead of Superman comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraMorningstar/pseuds/SandraMorningstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night Dean burnt all his Superman comics.<br/>One night Dean realized he could never be Superman.</p><p>A while later he read his first Batman comic and found a story he could relate to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am Batman!

It was getting really late, almost midnight Dean realized. His dad could come home any minute and if Sam wasn’t asleep when he did, he’d find a way to blame it on Dean and yell in his face again. Or worse. It all depended on how drunk he was, really.

He gulped. “Sam, go to bed. Please!”, he begged his little brother who shook his head and continued to munch popcorn. His eyes were glued to the TV screen watching a seriously gory horror movie. Dad had specifically told him not to let Sammy watch stuff like this. Dean was on the verge of a freak-out but clenched his fists and remained calm. He would handle this, nothing would happen. He could do this.

“How ‘bout I read you a bedtime story, Sammy?”, he tried.

“I don’t wanna go to bed”, his little brother insisted, followed by a yawn. “I wanna watch the movie.”

A car came to a screeching halt outside and Dean’s heart missed a beat. Heavy footsteps came up to their door – he held his breath – and moved past it. Dean let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Well, okay then”, he says and strolls in the direction of their bedrooms. “Then I’m just going to read the new Superman on my own.” Sams head whirls around and he is up and next to Dean lightning fast. Dean smiles teasingly to hide the weight that is lifted off his heart.

“You’ve got a new one? Did Uncle Bobby give it to you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam jumped up and down excitedly until Dean directed him to his bed. He made a mental note to never give his little brother sweets after dinner because surely it must be the sugar that kept him awake.

“Okay, lie down already”, he said, smiling fondly. He pulled the comic from his backpack and sat down on the side of the bed. He began reading, showing the pictures to Sammy. Sometimes pointing out details that caught his eye. But when they came to the first fight scene, Dean couldn’t keep his enthusiasm locked away any longer. He jumped up and started re-enacting the scene, warping the plot until it was completely his own.

“You will never defeat me, space Godzilla!”, he screamed loudly and standing on the other bed. Sam giggled. "I am superman and you”, he pointed at his little brother. “are no match for me.” Then he jumped over and started to tickle Sam, who laughed and screamed.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!”

Sam gasped and went silent, the spark of fear in his eyes. Dean quickly turned around and got off the bed, taking what would follow away from his baby brother. Gathering his courage he looked up to face his dad.

John Winchester looked furious and frightening. His clothes were bloody and full of dirt. His face a grimace of anger and his hands clenched to fists so tightly the knuckles were white. Dean’s heart began to pound.

“I was just telling him a story. We were about to go to bed I swear!”

“It is past midnight! Sam shouldn’t even be awake!”, John yelled. “You were keeping him awake again, weren’t you?!”

“No!”, Dean said frantic. “I swear!”

The punch threw him off his feet and he landed hard on the ground. “Don’t lie to me!”, John screamed and pulled him up again. He grabbed his backpack and yanked Dean out of the room, leaving a crying Sam behind.

John pushed him outside, flinging his backpack after him. “And don’t you dare come back in until you know what you’ve done!”, he yelled and slammed the door shut.

 

Dean let out a frustrated scream and stomped down the stairs to the Impala. He wouldn’t go back inside, no way. His resolution crumbled somewhat when he found the car locked but curled up on the hood of the car, using the emenating heat from the engine to keep him warm. But then it started raining and he seriously considered going back inside because he was soaking wet now. In the end he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Especially not after he heard the clinking of ice in a glass and his father, muttering to himself in a slurred voice.  
Angrily Dean stomped back onto the street, the rain soaking him further. Tears started running down his face that he kept wiping away. He started walking down the street so he wouldn’t freeze to death. He was furious and when he walked through a small park with no one around to hear him he finally allowed himself to break down. He cried, he screamed and punched the muddy earth. He jerked his backpack open and pulled the comics out. Every last one of them. What good were they anyway!

He arranged them to a neat little pile. And he’d wanted to be a superhero. Had imagined to be Superman before falling asleep. As if!

He searched his pockets for his lighter. He could never be Superman – he wasn’t super. He was just a disappointment. Good for nothing, good at nothing.

He found the Zippo and set the comics ablaze. Watching them burn, warming his hands over the fire until he almost wasn’t shivering anymore.

 

Sometime early in the morning the rain stopped and Dean left his makeshift shelter and marched back to the motel. His dad might have thrown him out yesterday but that didn’t mean he could show up late. They’d leave today after breakfast and he better be there.

His backpack was strangely light without all the comics in it. Instead his heart seemed infinitely heavy.

 

A few weeks later John left them with Uncle Bobby again. A bunch of brand new Superman comics waited for them in the living room. Sam was ecstatic and immediately started reading. Dean ignored them. He was too old for them anyway, he told himself. Bobby didn’t say anything, just looked questioningly at Dean, who understood the silent question. _Is anything wrong? You wanna tell me?_ No, he didn’t. He grabbed his shotgun and a few empty cans and stormed outside. His dad had told him to practice his shooting and that’s what he would do.

Two days later he found a new comic on his pillow. Batman stood in bold, yellow letters on the cover. At first he just flung it under his bed to forget about it. Later that night when he lay awake, unable to sleep because their father should have been back two days ago, he fetched the comic again and started reading it. And for the first time he found a comic book hero he could actually relate to, compare himself to. Someone whose life was as broken and far from normality as his own.


End file.
